Two Times Crazy
by Crimson-Curved
Summary: Hannibal King/Wade Wilson. An accedential bodyslide lands the Merc-With-a-Mouth in L.A. at the Nightstalkers HQ.


**Disclaimer:** I don't own any recognizable characters mentioned in this non-profit Non-copyright infringement..-ing fic.  
**Author's Note:** Better get this out of the way. I do not know if I want to go with the movie-verse Wade Wilson or comic-verse. The delema with his would be him physically, Reynold's is hot, but I like the comic-verse Wade aswell, so I left this chapter as is, hoping you guys could give me your expert opinion. Enjoi

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'Bodyslide by one.' Now it may not seem much to anyone he knows off the top of his head, but to Hannibal King, it meant his life turned upside down and fucked sideways. Not that he minded one bit though.

.

"Hey, you get some new toys?" Abigail pursed her lips as she walked into the room that held all of Nightstalkers weapons. She spotted her ally and friend at a metal table looking at a gun very meticulously, it was one she hadn't seen before...not that she really recognized all the guns the man carried...there was just far too many to even _try _to count.

"Yeah-uh, I did," He licked his bottom lip as he aimed the gun toward her, but not at her, "It only hold six bullets, but check it out," He pulled a bullet from the magazine and showed it to her, the bullet was large enough to look like it came from a mounted machine gun, "Goes in and bam, vampire-toast."

"Wow...sounds..." Her voice trailed as she tried to come up with the right word.

"Intimidating, big, attractive?" He tried with a small smirk.

"I was going to say 'over-kill'." Abigail smiled and ruffled his hair before walking out of the room through a door behind him.

"Over-kill." King repeated with a thoughtful nod.

.

This second sleeper cell they had moved to, wasn't a boat house and he was glad for that, but at the same time, nostalgic. Being over the water had him always feeling queasy, not to the point of blowing chunks, but he did feel a bit nauseated. Nostalgia kicked in every time he talked with the educated scientist on their team, and every time he loaded a gun, he remembered Hedges...they lost so much during the fight with Drake. Hannibal knew that the main this was that they, well Blade anyway, defeated Dracula, King of the Fucks.

Blade has been doing the typical silent hero thing. Y'know, being there without actually being there? He was fighting a jamboree of vampires a month or two back, and he was being over powered and was eventually knocked out but when he came to, ash littered the ground around him and he was still in the cemetery that he passed out in. It wasn't Abigail, she'd wake him up and drag him home, Blade wouldn't, so it had to be him. In any case, King knew Blade was out there, and he was glad.

As of right now, things were slow and Abigail said it was 'a perfect opportunity to settle and get ready for the next wave of attack.' One thing he admired about the young female. She was all around tough, she was a guys girl; Abby could kick your ass and be totally sexy while doing it. Hannibal told her that it wasn't a 'slow down'. King was under the fang and knew how they worked. They were regrouping, multiplying and shit like that. They were coming in a full force fuckin' wave and he knew that she knew the same was true. He was more than ready to go in with guns blazing, and he knew she would be to. On the other hand, they weren't exactly immortal or indestructible. Abigail was human, thanks to her, he was too and he was glad…but there was only so much they could do. He didn't doubt the Nightstalkers, he knew they could kick some ass; it was the fact that he could lose more of his friends.

Abigail never talked to him about it, the death of Sommerfield. It had to be hard on her because he had a hard time accepting it. Blade was with her, and King wasn't sure he was the comforting type.

Since then, they had moved to a new base, he and Abby were more than welcomed by the others, the new, members of their active team and Zoe. Zoe was living between him and Abigail. She would wake up in the middle of the night crying, but she was fairly closed about what had happened, but Abby told him that she talks to Zoe and assured him that she was fine. He hoped she was right.

.

The hunter's brows pulled together as he continued loading and cleaning his guns. Brown eyes glanced over at a nearby clock, it was ten twenty eight. By the time eleven twelve rolled around he had finished with his toys and he put them away, all forty-six plus guns and he was now walking over to the kitchen area of the base. It wasn't a fully loaded kitchen, it was a good size and it had the sink, a small fridge and a small stove. There was no use for a dishwasher or anything else.

He ran a dry hand over the corner of the counter before hitting a small button at the edge, causing the dim lights to come up. Hannibal looked over to a small basket by the stove that was full of fruits…It was either them or Zoe's Barnum animal crackers. It wasn't rocket science, but he was taking a while to make a decision between the two tantalizing treats. In the end, he wound up in front of the television with a giraffe in one hand and a Samuel Adam's beer in the other.

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This was intense and he was in a rut, not a place he liked to be in. It was between Markus and Stephen as the father, and all these commercials had him in suspense. King ate down a zebra; he wasn't sure why he continueed to check all the animals he ate because they all really did taste the same. When the show came back up the elderly man did a recap on what was happening, the two men sat on either side of the hefty woman, they were all tense. Who is the fuckin' father? Just as the man received the envelope, a crash pulled him from the nail biting show and he jumped. The box of animals landed on the tiles at his feet and he looked toward the stairs before he stood up, pulling an electronic pistol from behind the cushion of the one seater couch. Hannibal check it for bullets before walking down the hall, he did hear a crash, it wasn't his imagination. As he walked, he switched off the safety and he raised the gun up to his shoulder level. Shit was scarier in the dark right? Well, for one, it was fuckin' harder to see, that was for sure and it lead to people thinking they were seeing shit, or they were hearing shit…he knew he wasn't crazy, so he was fine with that. A soft light reached out to him as he came to the top of the stairs, and what he saw was enough to make him rethink him not being crazy. King wasn't sure if he was seeing things right, he rubbed his eyes, but the image remained. A fuckin' guy in a black and red get up, fuckin' samurai swords on his back and some guns.

.

What the fuck?


End file.
